


Fading

by doomeddean



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Evil Stiles, F/M, I suck at tagging, M/M, Nogitsune Stiles, Post Season 4, Post-Nogitsune, Stiles is bitten, Void Stiles, allison is still dead, but I will make it up as I go along, but he doesn't become a werewolf, i guess kind of, im sorry, not quite sure exactly what, stiles is something, teen wolf fan fiction, you shall see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomeddean/pseuds/doomeddean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He blinked one last time his eyes becoming frozen staring up at the overcast sky. The pain disappearing. The pressure finally released as his body relaxed and gave in. </p>
<p>“Stiles!” It was far away. So far away. </p>
<p>There was light and then suddenly there was nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think! I haven't exactly worked out where this story is going yet but I will figure it out.

Stiles sat in his Jeep outside Scotts house waiting for the werewolf to get out there. The sky was churning and dark clouds already crowded the sky casting a dim light over Beacon Hills. The street lamps doing little to break through the fog. It was unusual weather for California, a usually bright and sunny place. 

The passenger door swung open with a loud creak and Scott jumped in making the Jeep lurch to his side then right itself. 

“Jesus, easy on the hardware.” Stiles said, rubbing his Jeeps dashboard. 

“Sorry, just drive.” Scott replied out of breath.

Stiles turned the key starting the ignition and put the Jeep into drive pulling off the side of the road and headed towards Derek’s old house. 

“What’s the hurry?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know. I just got a call from Derek saying we were needed at the old Hale house and that it was important.” 

“That’s all he said?” 

“All he said.”

“Great.” Stiles said sarcastically turning off the main road and heading down the makeshift dirt path. The tires bouncing over pot holes. 

“What?” Scott asked seeming to pick up on Stiles’s sarcastic tone. 

“Well, what usually happens when we are summoned to an abandoned house in the middle of the woods at night?” 

“What? You scared or something?” Scott teased. 

“No. I’m not...just nothing ever good happens in this town after dark.” 

“I seem to recall me thinking that same thing the night I got bit when you insisted we go out looking for a dead body.” Scott gave Stiles a pointed look and a smirk.

Stiles waved him off shaking his head and rolling his eyes. 

After a few more minutes of driving Stiles pulled off along the side of the burnt Hale house. The black rafters and walls could be easily seen even in the dim light. Stiles turned off the Jeep and they both hopped out of the car. An eery silence surrounded them. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Where is he?” Stiles asked looking over at Scott standing a few feet to his left.

Scott just shrugged and shook his head the puzzlement clear on his face. Stiles took a step closer to the house squinting his eyes trying to get a clear view in the quickly diminishing light. The clouds had completely taken over the sky and a small droplet of rain fell onto Stiles’s nose running down his cheek. Stiles wiped it away but soon more droplets started to fall dampening his clothes and hair. 

“Derek?” He called softly towards the house. There was no answer. Stiles again looked at Scott. He was looking behind them scanning the woods, his hair matting down against his forehead. 

“Do you smell anything?” Stiles asked. 

“Something.” Scott said raising his head up and inhaling like a dog trying to catch a scent. 

“Derek?”

Scott shook his head. “Something different. Foreign. I don’t recognize it.” 

“Great. Perfect.” Stiles muttered to himself wiping the droplets of rain off his forehead and pushing his wet hair back. “What the hell are we doing out here man?” 

“Shhhh” Scott hushed Stiles cocking his head like he heard something. Stiles held his breath.

“I thought I heard -” A loud howl came out of the woods. Its shrill high pitched volume cutting through the silence and echoing off the trees. When the painful cry died off it was quickly replaced by another blood curdling screech. 

“That’s Derek!” Scott shouted at Stiles and took off running towards the woods. 

“Scott wait!” Stiles yelled running after him. The ground was slippery and wet from the heavy rainfall squishing under Stiles’s feet. Scott was a few paces ahead of him then Stiles saw his body twitch and convulse quickly transforming into his wolf form. The Alpha jumped forward onto all fours sprinting through the woods toward the howling. Stiles sprinted after him trying to keep up. 

“Scott!” He yelled but the werewolf had already disappeared into the darkness. Stiles slowed and eventually stopped, hands on his knees sucking in air painfully his legs and lungs screaming at him. The rain continued to pound against him weighing his clothes down even more. 

Stiles finally righted himself, wiping off sweat mixed with water from his forehead looking around trying to get oriented but the light was too dim. All Stiles could see were shadows. 

Then he realized that the howling had stopped. The only sound was his quick shallow breaths and the rain. Stiles spun his body forcing his eyes to focus on what was around him. The longer he stood there the more he felt someone was watching him. He could feel the pressure of eyes on his back, boring into him. Watching and waiting. A twig snapped and Stiles turned towards the direction of the noise. His heartbeat increasing and his stomach churning inside him. 

“Scott?” The word got stuck in his throat coming out as nothing more then a whisper. He swallowed trying to clear the lump forming. 

Again another twig snapped, but Stiles spun around too quickly his feet slipped on the mud and he fell onto the ground knocking the wind out of him. He blinked rapidly, stars and blotches gathering over his vision as he coughed. 

His eyes finally started to refocus and he saw a figure starting to appear before him. The shape was blurry and dark. Stiles couldn’t quite make it out. His head pounding with all the blood rushing through him. He blinked several more times and terror consumed him as he saw two blood red eyes starring into his. He sucked in a deep breath and was about to scream when a flashlight turned on pointing at the face.

“Boo!” Scott yelled holding the light on himself then started laughing. 

“Are you serious!” Stiles screamed at him grabbing mud off the ground and throwing it at Scott. Scott just continued laughing. 

Stiles stood up trying to wipe all the mud off of himself but to no avail. 

“Real funny Scott.” 

“Oh come on, it’s April Fools day. What’d you expect?”   

“I expected to not have a heart attack.” Stiles said, the anger and fear slowly dissolving. “Is Derek even out here?” 

“You bet.” A voice came from the bushes and Derek walked out from behind him. “Should have seen your face.” Derek said clapping Stiles on his shoulder and then walking over to Scott. 

Stiles rubbed the spot where Derek had slapped him, trying to sooth the tingly sensation. Both werewolves stood before him with smiles plastered over their face clearly proud of the fact that they had managed to prank Stiles. 

Stiles tried to keep his face looking as unamused and pissed off as he could waiting for them to stop looking so gleeful. Scotts smile was the first to vanish. Slowly dissolving into a steely expression, even in the darkness Stiles could see his skin had grown pale. Derek’s own complexion had done the same turning ghostly. The two looked at each other. 

“Do you smell that?” Derek whispered. 

Scott nodded. His eyes turned red again as his nails began to grow into wolf claws. 

“Okay, you’ve had your laugh.” Stiles said, done with the whole charade. “Can we go now?” 

“Shh.” Derek growled, his eyes turning blue and his own claws coming out. The joking demeanor quickly evaporating. Scott and Derek scanned the woods facing away from Stiles staring into the darkened forest. 

“What are you guys -” Stiles lurched, his body pushed back a couple of paces. Both werewolves stood frozen there eyes widening as fear consumed them.

Stiles had barely heard anything, only a small click of a weapon being fired. His hand went to the middle of his stomach as his mind and body processed what was happening. He pulled his hand away the white skin covered with red blood. He looked up at Scott and Derek still frozen in the spot. A split second was all it took and he was falling. His body slammed into the ground and the pain started. He felt a pressure on his stomach and realized Scott was bent over him pressing his hands firmly into the wound. Stiles coughed blood spurting out of his mouth onto his face. His eyes roamed the sky trying to focus but failing. The world seemed to be spinning and all the while a pressure was building up inside him preparing to burst out. 

“Derek, call an ambulance!” Scott screamed, his voice filling with panic. “Derek!” 

Stiles couldn’t stop coughing. He couldn’t breath. A searing pain was spreading throughout his entire body begging to be released. His eyes slipped closed and he felt a hard sting against his cheek. Someone had smacked him. 

“Stay with me!” Derek was gripping Stile’s face making him look at him. Stiles tried to say something but no words would come out. “You’re gonna make it. An ambulance is on its way.” 

Stiles knew though, he wasn’t going to make it. The world was growing darker. He could no longer fill the rain falling onto his skin and even the pain seemed to be seeping out of him. All there was now was the pressure against his chest. He struggled to pull in air as more blood dribbled from his mouth down his chin. 

“Derek. What do I do?” Stiles couldn’t see Scott anymore his eyes glazing over but he could hear the panic in his voice.

“Bite him.”

“What!” 

Stiles was floating away. Farther and farther. It wasn’t so bad now.

“Scott. Bite him!” 

“He doesn’t want it!”  

“Do you want him to die?!” 

Darkness swirled around him, the voices seemed muffled like cotton pads were wedged into Stiles’s ears.

“Take me.” Stiles whispered. 

He blinked one last time his eyes becoming frozen staring up at the overcast sky. The pain disappearing. The pressure finally released as his body relaxed and gave in. 

“Stiles!” It was far away. So far away. 

There was light and then suddenly there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get up. Something you should know about me, I am a bit sporadic with updates. I will truly try my best to get them up often. I took a bit of time to try and figure out where I want this story to go and kind of planned it a bit more. Hopefully you like this chapter...

Sheriff Stilinski sat at his desk going through the mountain of paperwork that had somehow piled up over the past couple weeks. Beacon Hills was rightfully named. It truly was a beacon for the strange and supernatural many of whom were directly connected to Sheriff Stilinski or his son which made his job about ten times harder. Having to filter through what was human and what was supernatural became a bit burdensome after a while. But this was a piece of cake when compared to trying to get back to normal after the nogitsune. 

That clean up had taken months, making all that footage disappear. A million cameras capturing a blood bath with his sons face plastered on the perpetrator. Somehow people had forgotten or thats what the Sheriff kept telling himself.

That part of his life was over and he thanked God everyday for it. He just wished he and Stiles could forget as well. 

The Sheriff licked the tips of his finger and grabbed the next page off the top of the pile. Animal attack, deep claw marks, occurred last weekend on the night of the full moon. He placed it in the steadily growing pile of which he would ship to Deaton. He was trying to keep himself out of the supernatural as much as possible, which was nearly impossible but he still tried.

A knock came from the office door. The Sheriff looked up to see Parrish standing there and waved him in.

Parish cracked the door open and just leaned his head in, “There’s a call for you Sheriff.” He said.

“Transfer it in.”

Parish nodded and left the room a few seconds later the phone buzzed and the Sheriff picked it up.

“Sheriff Stilinksi.” 

“It’s Melissa McCall.” Her voice was shaky and sounded strained like she was breathing heavily. The Sheriff felt a tickle of anxiety working its way up his spine.

“Everything okay?” The Sheriff asked, Melissa was pausing for far to long, he could still hear her hitched breathing on the other end of the phone. “What is it?” He urged, his anxiety growing with each passing moment. Melissa never called unless it was something important. 

“It’s Stiles.” Another pause. The Sheriff felt a dry lump forming in his throat and the anxiety was quickly replaced by fear.  
“What is it? Is he okay?” He was already standing up with the phone leaning against his shoulder gathering up his belongings. 

“He’s in the hospital...” The Sheriff felt all the color drain from his face and the keys slipped from his hand falling onto the floor. 

“Melissa...is he...” He couldn’t get the words out, her hitched breaths on the other end of the line was all he needed to know that it was bad. 

“Get here. Now.” 

 

Sheriff ran every red light on his way to the hospital sirens blaring. Barely bothering to slow down around corners. Something really bad had happened to his son but he had no idea what. Melissa could barely talk she sounded like she was struggling with every word. The only thing he needed to know was it was critical.

The hospital came into view and the Sheriff pressed on the gas harder pushing his speed up to seventy. His brain was telling him to slow down, no use getting himself killed in the process, but he couldn’t. He needed to get to Stiles. He needed to get to his son.

As soon as he pulled into the hospital parking lot he jumped out of the car, not even bother to close the door behind him as he ran into the emergency room. It was packed full. People laid out in the waiting room waiting to be seen. Most of them stupid kids pulling pranks on April Fools day. Then he spotted them.

He saw Scott sitting over in the corner with his head in his hands and Derek pacing back and forth. The Sheriff had never seen the former Alpha look so stressed out before, sweat was poring off of him. As for Scott he looked like he might throw up or pass out at any moment.

The Sheriff ran over to them his gun and keys banging against his hip. 

Scott looked up just as he arrived, his eyes were stained red from crying. 

“What the hell happened?” Both boys looked at each other as if deciding who should say what, the Sheriff was losing his patience. “Someone speak!” 

“It was my fault.” Scott stood up, his voice shaky. 

“No. Scott-” 

“Derek. No.” Scott cut Derek off looking at him then turned his gaze back to the Sheriff. “I tricked Stiles into coming out to the woods for an April Fools prank. We were messing around when suddenly...” He swallowed and looked down at the ground blinking tears out of his eyes. “It happened so fast. I didn’t see anything.” 

“I don’t even know where it came from.” Derek jumped in.

“Where what? Just spit it out!” The Sheriff’s patience was completely gone and he was tired of beating around the bush.

“Someone shot him.” Scott finally said.

The Sheriff let out a long stream of air he didn’t realize he was holding in placing his hands on his hips he took a step back. 

“Shot?” He repeated back. 

Both boys nodded. 

“Where’s Melissa?” 

“She went with Stiles into surgery.” Derek provided. 

The Sheriff nodded, his head was spinning.

“Did you see the shooter?” He asked. 

Both boys shook their heads. 

“It happened way to fast.” Scott paused, “I’m really really sorry.” 

The Sheriff sat down placing his face in his hands. He rubbed his cheeks and forehead trying to scrape away the pain and fear that was enveloping him. He couldn’t lose Stiles. He just couldn’t. 

 

It felt like they had been sitting in the waiting room for hours waiting for someone to come out and give them any scrap of news. In the meantime the Sheriff had sent a search party out to the forest by the old Hale house to try and find any traces of the shooter. The Sheriff wasn’t optimistic. It had happened hours ago and it seemed that this was the one night the skies decided to open up and flood the city. Any tracts, footprints or markings, would be long gone. 

“Sheriff.”   
The Sheriff looked up and saw Melissa walking towards them, her scrubs had blood on the front and her face was covered in sweat but her eyes said it all. 

She stopped halfway waiting for the Sheriff to walk over to her, he stood up shaking his head feeling tears sting his eyes. 

“No. No. No.” 

“I’m sorry-” Her voice broke and he could see her eyes reddening and her jaw clenched holding in emotion. 

The Sheriff wanted to punch someone, to bash their face in until they were red and bleeding out on the floor. To inflict as much pain on someone else as he was feeling but instead he just flung himself down in the nearest chair and broke down sobbing.

He smashed the palms of his hands into his eyes, felt the hot tears falling over them and his body shook uncontrollably. 

“Wha-What happened?” He managed to get out. 

Melissa sat down next to him. Placed a hand on his back and took a breath, “He was shot in the abdomen. The bullet went through several vital organs and then got lodged in his lungs. We tried everything we could to save him but he lost to much blood. I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded formal and rehearsed. She had retreated into her comfortable state of being a nurse delivering bad news to a family. 

“I need to see him.” The Sheriff uncovered his eyes and looked up at Melissa who seemed to be holding her breath to keep her professional exterior from cracking. Her jaw was visibly clenching. 

“You can. Later. He needs to go down to the morgue and get cleaned up.”   
“Mom.” Scott’s voice was quiet and sounded just as broken as the Sheriff felt. 

Melissa stood up, Scott seemed to have shrunken back down to a little kid again. The second she took him into her arms he sunk down onto the ground taking Melissa with him. The Sheriff could barely focus on them, his brain had gone numb and foggy. He barely registered Derek running out of the waiting room and disappearing. 

Everything around him was fading, his vision was blurred and his entire body felt broken. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I was saying up above, I hoped you liked this chapter. I am kind of using it as a transition before I get into the main story, more updates to come with more nogi stiles and all that good stuff.   
> Thanks for all the kudos! Means a lot !


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but I wanted to give you guys something. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments!

Derek practically sprinted to the hospital door not bothering to look back. His heart was racing and he could feel himself losing control. It had been a while since his wolf had escaped of its own accord and Derek was trying desperately to keep it locked up inside him. The pain seemed to be taking over though and all he felt was agony and loss along with the need to find Stiles’s killer and put a claw through their spine. 

Derek made it to his car breathing heavily his body was already starting to shift and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself under control. The moment he stepped inside the vehicle he let himself go. Howling at the top of his lungs not caring who or what heard him. It wasn’t like Derek to allow himself to feel this rawly. The gaping hole that was widening in his heart, however, did not seem as if it would be filled easily. 

Derek had experienced loss, he knows it all to well. The night his entire family was burned alive before his eyes was an experience that would not soon be lost in his memory. Derek still woke up at nights sometimes sweating and squirming in bed ripping at the sheets trying to find a way out of the inferno. He always woke up, heart racing and claws out scratching at nothing. There had been no escape and there had been nothing Derek could do. But this was different, something about it felt so preventible. He was there with Stiles, he should have smelt the shooter. He should have known someone else was there and tasted that they were a threat, but he didn’t. That was the last time Derek would ever let his guard down. He seemed to do that a lot around Stiles. The kid was an annoying pain in the ass but over the years Derek had grown to care for him more then he ever meant to or realized.

Derek finally calmed himself, retracting the claws that had dug into the leather seats. He turned the key in the ignition. The car came to life revving gently beneath him. Derek took a breath and started driving. He took a right out of the hospital parking lot heading back to the forest. 

 

When Derek arrived at his old burnt home Stiles’s jeep was still parked there. The team Sheriff Stilinski had dispatched to comb the woods have obviously not come to collect the vehicle yet. Even from a distance Derek could smell Stiles on the car but somehow it was different. Almost vacant. As though the car knew it had lost its master and was cleansing itself. The memory of Stiles already seemed to be vanishing from it.

Derek blinked a few times clearing his vision of the tears he didn’t realize were appearing and turned heading into the forest following the tracks that lead to where Stiles had been shot. There were multiple sets, most were clearly the police officers who had come through the area looking for evidence. Derek knew there was a next to nothing chance they would find anything. It had been raining nonstop all night anything that would’ve been useful would be long gone. To minute for any human to see. But not a werewolf. Derek could easily pick up Stiles’s scent, the smell of blood did not easily wash away.

When he found himself in the clearing where the incident took place he was almost overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions that he was feeling. He steadied himself and focused, the chemo signals were mostly Stiles’s. Derek could distinguish them from himself and Scott easy enough.

Derek knelt and inhaled deeply taking in the scent of what seemed to be a giant pool of blood. 

It smelled like pain. The metallic taste of it becoming heavy on Derek’s tongue. The rain seemed to be heightening everything making it heavier and stronger bringing out all the underlining emotions. Derek felt fear and anguish but below it all he felt something he did not expect. Relief. All coming from Stile’s blood. 

Why would he feel relief? 

Derek also detected something more subtle, minute enough that he almost didn’t notice. Something about the blood smelt off. Derek recognized the strange almost sour smell but couldn’t put his finger on where he had experienced it before. Throwing caution to the wind he dipped the tip of his pinky finger into the red substance and then placed it into his mouth tasting. 

Derek spat it out quickly recognizing the taste immediately. 

Wolfsbane. 

The blood was laden with it which meant the bullet had been laced with it too. Derek stood up from his crouched position everything clicking into place in his mind. 

The questions they had all been asking were why there was a shooter out here in the first place? Who would want to shoot an unarmed teenage boy? 

This was why.

The bullet wasn’t meant for Stiles. It was meant for either Derek or Scott. Meant to take down a werewolf which also equated to even more bad news for all of Beacon Hills and anyone supernatural who lived in it. 

There were new hunters here and they aimed to kill. 

 

***

Scott rubbed his eyes feeling the crusted dry skin at the corners squishing back and forth. He rubbed harder until the skin came off. It was nearly six in the morning and they were still waiting to see Stiles’s body. 

The Sheriff had gone to check on the search party, Derek had gone god knows where and Scott’s mother was still trying to find out when they could go see Stiles. 

Scott was lying in an on-call room staring at the bunk bed above him, his mother had brought him there trying to get him to sleep but who could sleep at a time like this. His best friend was dead and it was all his fault. 

Scott threw the blanket over his head and sighed deeply. He didn’t think it would be possible for him to sleep ever again. He also didn’t think he would be able to cry anymore then he already had but somehow another tear slipped down his cheek.

He couldn’t stop replaying last night in his head. The look on Stiles’s face when he realized he was shot, the horror he felt. Scott flinched reimagining all the blood that had come out of a seemingly small wound. 

All the damage a single bullet could do.

Scott sat up, throwing the blanket on the ground. He couldn’t stay in here any longer but he had no where else to go. The ticking sound of the clock on the wall was starting to drive him insane. Scott paced back and forth for what felt like hours before there was a knock on the door.

It creaked open slowly, letting a small stream of light through before Melissa popped her head in. 

“It’s time.” She said.

The clock showed it was sixty-forty five. 

 

The walk down to the morgue seemed endless. Scott didn’t even know why he was going to see Stiles’s body. It was the Sheriff who had requested to see him but for some reason Scott felt obligated to go as well. Part of Scott wanted to preserve the memory he had of Stiles. The fun loving, high energy boy that never quit and never backed down. He didn’t want to see him cold and lifeless lying on a steel table. 

But Scott knew if he didn’t go see Stiles. He would never forgive himself.

They passed through some double doors that said “Authorized Personnel Only” and then went down a flight of stairs. At the bottom of the steps was another long corridor that ended with a large door that had the word, “Morgue” written on it. 

To Scott it all seemed to artificial. Like something he would see in a crime movie. Everything was in a dense fog around him as they marched down the hallway. The forbidden door looming in the distance. Scott didn’t look at the Sheriff, he just followed his mother starring directly into her brown curls scared that if he looked away he would turn and run.

His palms were sweating and his heart raced. His best friend was in there, lying on a table lifeless. Scott swallowed a lump that formed in his throat his heart screaming to run now.

They got to the doors and Melissa opened it up slowly, stepping to the side allowing them to go in then she followed behind them gently closing the door. Scott once again focused his attention on her following her lead as she lead them over to the far left stopping in front a door that was marked Stilinski, S.

She took a breath, “Are you sure you want to see him?” She asked once again. She had asked already multiple times.

Scott looked at the Sheriff who nodded so he did to. 

Melissa nodded as well placing her hand on the handle of the container that held Stiles’s body.

“I just want you to prepare yourself. He is going to be pale and cold. There are also going to be stitches in his chest from the bullet wound.”

“When is the autopsy?” The Sheriff asked. 

“Later today.” Melissa answered.

“I’d like to be there.”

“I’m not sure-” Melissa started to protest but the Sheriff rose his hand cutting her off.

“I need to be there Melissa, just please.” He took a breath. “I’m ready.”

Melissa looked at Scott and he nodded. His heart palpating inside his chest seeming to skip a beat as she gripped the handle and pulled out. 

Scott almost fainted when he looked at the steel table, his mind reeled and he took a step back. 

The Sheriff looked up at Melissa his eyes wide with confusion and his face going stark white.

“I-I don’t understand.” Melissa stuttered.

Scott felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket, he reached in and pulled it out with a shaky hand.

“Hello?” His voice sounded higher pitched then usual.

“Scott! It’s Derek, listen we’ve got problems.” Derek’s own voice sounded panicky.

“You could say that.” 

“What?” 

“It’s Stiles.”

“What about him?” Derek asked. 

“His body. Its gone.”


	4. Chapter 4

The table was empty. It was fucking empty. Scott stared at it, his heart feeling like it was about to burst. Derek was talking in his ear but Scott didn’t hear him he was to busy looking at the steel table that was supposed to be holding his best friend’s corpse but was instead empty. 

He looked around the room observing it and noticed shattered glass was scattered around from underneath a broken window where a chair was pushed up against the wall. None of it made any sense. 

Scott vaguely remembered hanging up on Derek muttering about how he’d call him right back before following Melissa back towards the exit of the morgue and down the hall to the security room.

“All these hallways and rooms have cameras in them so if someone took him we’ll see who.” She said slightly out of breath as the three of them raced down the hall.

“But why would someone want to take him?” Scott asked.

“Better yet, who?” The sheriff added.

They made it to the security room, the door slammed open making the two security officers jump at the sudden intrusion. Melissa and the Sheriff both flashed their identification and started spouting off orders.

“I need you to run the tape for the morgue at approximately 1 A.M.” Melissa requested, the security guard complied not asking any questions. Scott had a weird feeling that they were used to strange requests. He flipped through the different camera feeds finally stopping on the one facing the morgue and rewound to the time Melissa said. 

All Scott saw was a blur of motion, people going in and out, bodies being put into their own compartments and closed off. 

“Stop right there!” Melissa shouted in the ear of the security guard. The other guard seemed to have no idea what was happening and didn’t seem to care. He carried on with his work duties flipping between screens glancing over occasionally at the three strange people who had just busted in and now were huddled around the small screens barking orders. 

“There he is.” Melissa pointed out. Scott and the Sheriff both took a deep inhale of breath as they saw two orderlies carting in a body with a white sheet placed over the top of it. One hand hung over the side of the cart and although the footage was fuzzy it could be easily identified as Stiles. Scott suddenly realized he didn’t want to see his best friend placed into his own compartment only to be forgotten. The Sheriff seemed to be thinking the same thing. Scott chanced a look at him and saw tears welling up in the older man’s eyes as he tried desperately to hold himself together.

The two orderlies lifted Stiles body and transferred him onto the table that had been pulled out. The sheet came off and Scott had to look away. The small glimpse he had of Stiles was not his best friend. It was a pale lifeless body that wore his best friends face. Scott was almost relieved now that the body was gone so he didn’t have to see it in person. That relief faded as quickly as it had come. 

“Would you give us a moment?” Melissa asked the security guards sensing the tension building in the room. The security guards seemed indifferent to the whole situation standing up and leaving the room without question. Scott wondered why they even bothered being there. 

Melissa sat down in the seat in front of the camera they were viewing and began clicking buttons to fast forward the footage. 

“Are you ready?” She asked. Her question was directed at both Scott and the Sheriff. 

They both nodded. She continued fast forwarding for several hours of footage and then hit play. 

Nothing unusual had happened over the hours of footage they had just sped through, Stiles body had been placed on the table and pushed into the wall a tab put on the compartment marking who was in it. Then all was quiet until there was an obvious bang against the door. 

From the inside.

Melissa leaned forward to take a closer look. “What the hell.” She said, squinting her eyes as if she was obviously seeing something wrong.

Scott and the Sheriff leaned in as well both dumbfounded by what they were witnessing. The compartment was shaking and the door kept lurching as if someone was trying to kick it open.

“Is there sound on that thing?” The Sheriff asked. Melissa shook her head not looking at him transfixed by what was taking place on the screen.

With one final kick the compartment burst open and the table slid out. 

Melissa gasped placing her hands over her mouth, the Sheriff took a step back his face pale and mouth opened wide but Scott just stared at the thing that looked exactly like his best friend. 

Stiles pulled the table all the way out and climbed off of it. Wobbly on his feet clutching onto the wall. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and Scott could see it then shining like a beacon on his arm. The bite mark Scott had given to him in the panic of the moment. It was bright red and still had dried blood around it looking fresh. Somehow the bite had worked but not in the way expected. Stiles was alive but was he a werewolf? 

Scott tried swallowing but his throat had become a dry wasteland. His best friend had died right in front of him, he had felt the pulse stop underneath his fingertips but yet somehow he was there and he was alive.

Scott stared at the screen watching Stiles confused and half dead body stumble across the room falling against the wall. He was clutching his head and twisting in circles staring at the walls and the ceiling. His eyes wide with panic and growing more manic by the second. Scott had never seen his friend look like this, his eyes void of all the good that is Stiles. 

All the breath had been sucked out of the room as they waited to see what this undead boy would do. Stiles finally seemed to get his feet walking over to a chair that sat in the corner he pushed it up against the wall. He climbed on top of it and reached up to the small window that was up towards the ceiling. The morgue was in the basement so the window was at base level opening right up to the ground. Stiles reached up trying to find a way to open it and when he didn’t he punched it. His fist went straight through the glass and the boy didn’t even wince. Cuts showed on the screen, dribbles of blood flowing from them on Stiles’s knuckles but he didn’t seem to notice. He knocked out the rest of the window and then hoisted himself up. 

Stiles pushed his body through the window, rolled out onto the dirt and then disappeared form view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter and for such a long wait for an update. I started back up with school so I'll be pretty busy. I will try to get updates up at least every week or two. In order to try and do it more often then that they will probably be shorter around like this one. I hope you guys are liking this story so far. Thanks for all the kudos and comments!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it finally is! I hope this is good enough because it was hard for me to even get this out. Writing for me is very hard because I am either in the zone or not and the issue there is, if I'm in the zone it can last only two minutes and when I'm not it can last months! SO I'm sorry I'm such a poo and it took me so long to get this out and its not even that long but I really am going to try to not take so long for the next chapter I swear! Like Chuck from Supernatural once so eloquently said "writing is hard."

The pain was the first thing. An intense throbbing and pulling sensation, like something was stuck inside his abdomen scratching at the inside of his skin trying to get out. Next was the soreness, the dull thumping of feet against wet leaves and grass. Sharp stings of pressure came shooting up his leg anytime Stiles’s placed his foot on the ground. One foot in front of the other moving faster and faster. He was sprinting through the forest, his mind racing only stopping on one thought. Flee. Something in his body had awakened that he had no control over, he felt his arms flexing and pumping at his sides propelling him forward along with his feet but his brain had no idea why. Somehow he just knew he needed to get away. 

Memories flashed through his brain, a single gun shot, a split second of calmness and clarity then everything turns fuzzy. Snippets of visions flash before his eyes, Scott leaning over him, saying something, pain, flashes, his head is buzzing. Stiles closes his eyes as the wind whips past him, still running faster then he ever has. 

“Stay with me!” The words Scott screamed at Stiles echo in his head.

Stiles’s feet move faster. 

***

The Sheriff moved to fast for Scott to process it, before he knew what happened his body was pushed up against the wall a strong arm holding him there. 

“Did you bite my son?!” The Sheriff practically screamed in Scott’s face, the anger and grief radiating out of him.

“No! I swear!” Scott shouted back not thinking. 

“Scott McCall don’t you lie to me. Not about this.” The Sheriff was still holding Scott against the wall his grip loosening somewhat. 

“Let him go!” Melissa shouted grabbing onto the Sheriff’s shoulder and forcing him to release Scott. 

“I mean...I didn’t think it worked!” Scott’s mind was racing trying to think of possible explanations but nothing else made sense as to how Stiles’s could have survived. 

But he felt his heart stop...

The Sheriff backed away, running his hands through his hair taking a breath.

“What do you mean you didn’t think it worked?” His voice was shaking as if he was holding in anger or holding back tears. 

“I bit him to save his life, it’s worked before on other people.” Scott tried to explain.

“What do you mean ‘other people’? Have you done this before?” Melissa asked stepping closer to her son. 

“No! I mean in general biting someone close to death can heal them, save their life...but Stiles it didn’t do anything, I felt his heart stop.” Scott realized he was shaking. 

He just saw his thought to be dead best friend climb out of the morgue and roll out a window. His now seemingly alive and possibly his beta werewolf best friend was running through the forest doing and feeling only God knows what. 

“Oh God. This is bad.” Scott muttered to himself doubling over and hugging his knees the blood rushing to his head. “What do we do?” 

“I can only think of one person who might know something.” Melissa said. 

***

Deaton’s veterinary clinic was dark when they arrived, the lights turned out and the closed sign propped up but Scott knew he would be in there. He texted him to meet them there a little over twenty minutes ago explaining that it was an emergency. When they pulled up to the back lot of the clinic Deaton stood there with an annoyed expression on his face.

Scott jumped out of the car before it had even completely stopped running over to his former boss.

“What’s so important you had to summon me here at these hours?” 

“Can a person die and come back to life?” Scott rambled out faster than he meant to, the words jumbled together.

Deaton’s face scrunched in confusion, “What? No. What are you talking about?” 

Melissa and the Sheriff ran over from the car joining them.

“Can a person who was bitten but then died come back to life?” Scott asked again, over enunciating each word. 

“I think it’s best if we discussed this inside.” Deaton made a gesture indicating for Scott and the others to go inside. Scott unlocked the back door and walked through the darkened hallway into the back room of the clinic. The others followed close behind.

Deaton came in last closing the door behind him.

“What you’re talking about isn’t possible.” Deaton said plainly, “A werewolf bite can only save those who are not gravely injured, it cannot bring a person back from death or even save them if they are on the brink. Simply not possible.” 

“Not possible or not probable?” Melissa asked. 

Deaton looked at her still with the face of confusion, “Not possible. Who are we even talking about here?” 

Everyone looked at each other, Scott trusted Deaton, but he knew that the others did not and he didn’t know how much information to share.   
“I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information.” Deaton encouraged. 

“Fine.” Scott took a breath and explained everything, talking about the gunshot, the bite, death and eventual coming back to life. Deaton listened quietly through it all, nodding every few moments but not showing any emotion. When Scott finished he felt better, somehow talking it through with someone felt cathartic and made the situation feel more real. 

“Where exactly did you bite Stiles?” Deaton finally asked. 

“On his arm. Why?”

“Some areas of the body pump blood faster. Depending on where you bit him the effects could be quicker.” 

“So, he is a werewolf then?”

“Like I said, the bite cannot bring someone back to life. Stiles is no werewolf.” 

“Then what the hell is he? A zombie?” Scott asked his voice straining with frustration.

“We shouldn’t even be taking the time to do this, I should be out looking for my son.” The Sheriff interjected.  
 “And you will, but there is no use looking for something that you have no idea what it is or what it could do.” Deaton replied. 

“It is? What do you mean? Like Stiles isn’t even himself anymore? He is still my son!” 

Everyone was leaning over the table that stood in the middle of the room, talking in slightly hushed voices. For some reason Scott felt as if someone was listening to them.

“Shh.” Melissa brushed her hand over Stilinski’s back hushing him trying to calm him, “We will get him back, but right now Deaton is right. We need to figure some things out.” 

“Right, remember when Lydia was bitten?” Deaton asked.

Everyone nodded.

“But she didn’t turn into a werewolf. The bite can work in more the one way. Often times, it does what it is supposed to do which is to transform a person into a werewolf but other times, on very special people it does something else. It sort of works like jumper cables for a car battery. It jump starts whatever supernatural abilities are already dormant in the person.” 

“Are you saying that the bite awakened some sort of supernatural power inside Stiles?” Scott asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“No way.” The Sheriff shook his head, fists clenching against the table, “My son is not supernatural.” 

“How can you say that?” Scott turned to him, “You saw as well as I what happened tonight. The bite saved Stiles’s life.”   
“At what cost?” 

“Mr. Stilinski, may I ask you a question?” Deaton walked around to the other side of the table stopping in front of the Sheriff.

“I guess.” 

“After the nogitsune, Stiles, he seemed normal?” 

“Yeah, I guess. I mean as normal as someone can be after an experience like that.” 

“No increased anger? Irritability? Or trouble sleeping?” 

“No. He’s been fine.” The Sheriff answered through clenched teeth, “Why?” Scott could hear the Sheriff’s heart beat increasing. 

He was lying. 

Scott looked up at him, what else had Stiles never told him. A drop of sweat slipped from Stilinski’s hair line and went down his face. 

“I’ve been curious about this for a while now.” Deaton’s voice was almost suspicious but also inquisitive, like he’s finally getting to ask the questions he’s been thinking of for a long time. 

“Curious about what?” The Sheriff sounded defensive.

“Why Stiles? I mean why would the nogitsune pick him, a seemingly harmless human?”   
“Seemingly?” Melissa asked stepping forward.

“Nogitsune’s are very particular when picking a host, they either go for something of great strength with a large amount of supernatural ability or they go for something familiar.” Deaton explained. 

“Familiar?” Scott was confused now to, where was Deaton heading? 

“Like a familiar bloodline. A nogitsune will likely possess the progeny of someone they’ve acquainted themselves with.”

“Like the child of a parent that was possessed before?”

“Exactly Scott. So my question for you, Sheriff is, how exactly did your wife die?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay and made sense. I am making this up as I go!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on my last chapter :) I read all your comments even if I don't respond and I usually don't respond so that I don't give anything away. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I tried to make it longer for you! Just to avoid any confusion, this chapter jumps between different POV's and some of the stuff is happening simultaneously. Enjoy!

Derek paced back and forth in his loft, it had been hours since he heard back from Scott. All he knew was that Stiles had disappeared, someone must have taken him. Perhaps the hunters, they realized their mistake and went to clean up the mess. 

None of this made any sense. 

Derek ran his hands through his hair pulling it up from the roots practically out of his skull. He was racked with anxiety. Every two-seconds he check on his phone making sure it was plugged in and full of battery. He hated not knowing what was going on and it seemed like most of the time he was out of the loop. 

Whenever something horribly awful happened he was always the last to know and the one who had to clean up the mess. 

Not this time though. This time he was the cause of the mess. If he hadn’t thought of pranking Stiles, hadn’t gotten Scott to bring him out to the middle of the woods none of this would have happened. 

Everything always seemed to be pinned on how Derek could never protect those he cared about. 

The phone rang and Derek practically jumped out of his skin, launching himself in its direction smashing down the answer symbol nearly breaking the machine in the process. 

“Scott.” Derek shouted into the phone. 

“No. Whats going on?” The voice on the other end was high pitched. 

“Lydia?” 

“I tried calling Scott but he didn’t answer and neither did the Sheriff. You’re my next best option, what’s going on with Stiles?” Her words came out fast but her voice was steady and serious.

“What do you mean? Who told you?” Derek sat down on the couch running his hands through his hair slightly confused as to how she even found out. 

“I’m a banshee, no one had to tell me.” She paused, taking a breath and seeming to contemplate her next words, “I felt it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I felt the gun shot. It was like it shot through me to...only I woke up a few moments later. Did Stiles?” 

“Lydia...” 

“Derek, please, just tell me.”

“Lydia-” Derek had to pause, he didn’t know if he could actually say the word dead, “he’s gone.” 

There wasn’t a response for a long time, Derek took the phone from his ear to make sure she was still on the other end. Her breaths were shaky and quiet through the phone and Derek sat there reliving all his previous emotions. 

Sadness. Pain. Confusion. Everything seemed so dull and sudden. Stiles gone. None of it made any sense. 

When Lydia finally spoke her voice had somehow steadied.

“He’s not dead.” 

Derek shook his head, brushing his hand through his hair, “Lydia...” he said softly, “I saw it happen. There’s no way-” 

“Derek, trust me, Stiles is not dead. I can feel him.” 

“What?” 

“I can feel his heart racing through me. Trust me. He’s alive and he’s terrified.” 

*** 

Stiles stopped at the creak near the edge where the woods broke, everything was a blur. His feet were bleeding but his body was in so much shock he didn’t seem to feel the pain.

He crouched down next to the water placing his palms together gathering some of the cool liquid splashing it over his face and bare shoulders. Brushing his hands over his chest where there should have been a bullet hole but instead there was only smooth skin. It was like nothing had even happened. 

A cold breeze blew through the trees feeling gentle and cool against Stiles hot skin, his chest slowly stopped heaving as he regained normal control of his breathing. 

When he stood up and looked around he realized he recognized nothing.  
Beacon Hills was a distant dot on the horizon, barely visible. He seemed to be being pulled out of there. A panic response that Stiles didn’t even know he had. 

Something wet trickled down his shoulder, Stiles cocked his head to look and noticed a large gash and separation of skin in his arm. 

Stiles knew immediately what it was. He had spent enough time with werewolves to know a bite when he saw one. 

An influx of emotion ran through him, fear, anger, sadness but mostly confusion. 

Stiles had done plenty of research on werewolves and their bites to know what they could and could not do. Bringing people back from the dead was definitely on the not list. 

Stiles hesitantly placed his finger over the gashes, picking at some of the dried blood. Although it was still an open wound he felt no pain when he touched it. He pushed his index finger in harder causing new spurts of wet blood to drop out. He still felt nothing but pressure. 

He pulled his finger out still expecting a sudden sharp pain but feeling none. Adrenalin could mask pain for only so long, this was more then that. 

The only pain Stiles felt now was that of his heart thumping against his chest. His feet tingled and a numbness seemed to be spreading over them, small cuts crisscrossed over his toes and sole but the stinging that was there originally faded with every second. 

Whatever was in him seemed to be spreading and getting stronger. The sensation to run was back. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed, he needed to take a moment to think but his brain was doing back flips in his skull. He pushed his hands up through his hair grabbing and pulling on the ends trying to relieve the tension. 

Stiles’s face scrunched up and he almost screamed to let something out. 

“Are you okay?”  
 Stiles jumped backwards his feet splashing water up against the back of his leg. There was a man standing there, his face covered with a long brown beard. He wore a baseball cap that hung low over his brow almost obscuring his eyes, but they were to bright. A silvery gray peaked through from beneath the hat. He carried a walking stick and had a backpack on. 

“Yeah.” Stiles croaked out, having to clear his throat. Stiles hoped the man would just continue on ignoring the half naked, blood and mud covered teenage boy but this guy didn’t seem like the type. 

“You sure? It’s pretty cold out still this morning, maybe you ought to put some clothes on.” He had an odd accent Stiles couldn’t quite place, it sounded almost country but like the man was trying to cover it up.

“I’m fine. Thank you!” Please just leave, the urge to run was building up stronger then ever but there was also something else there. A tingle, almost like hunger or maybe fear. 

“Why don’t you come with me? I’ll give you some clothes, patch up your arm, then you can be on your way. No questions asked.” 

“That’s really okay.” 

“I insist. What kind of person would I be if I just left you like this?” 

Stiles knew there wasn’t any getting out of this. The man’s eyes were serious and he had a look on his face that Stiles did not want to challenge. Plus something inside him was curious and felt a pull there. Like this was the thing Stiles had been running to. 

“Okay.” 

The man smiled, “Alright. Come on. I don’t live far.” 

He turned around and started walking back the direction he had appeared not checking to see if Stiles was behind him. Stiles followed a few paces back, keeping a small distance. 

“Whats your name son?” The man asked as they hiked down a hill that Stiles hadn’t noticed before. 

“Stiles.” 

“Stiles. Thats an interesting name. A family name?” They got to the end of the hill and exited the woods crossing a highway street the weaved back the way they came. Back toward Beacon Hill.

“Uh. No. Just a nickname.” 

The man nodded and turned down a graveled road, Stiles could see a small house that he considered to be a few blocks away.

“What about you? Whats your name?” Stiles asked.  
 “My name is Clay.” 

“You like living all the way out here Clay? Away from the city?” 

“Sure do. I’m not much into people.” He stopped and looked back at Stiles, “Unless they’re traipsing through the jungle half naked that is.” 

“That could be taken a lot of ways Clay.” Stiles couldn’t help but say the comment, it came out sarcastic but inside he was serious. 

“I know.” Clay turned back and continued walking towards the house that didn’t seem to be getting any closer. His heavy boots slumped against the ground and his backpack bounced up and down with each step. 

“When we get to the house I can give you some shoes to. Sure your feet hurt. They’re cut up pretty bad.” 

Stiles looked down at his feet as he walked, he was leaving a trail of blood behind him, “I actually didn’t notice.” 

“Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“Drawing attention to it. It’s like before you notice a cut, you don’t feel the pain but once you notice, boy does that sucker hurt.” 

“I guess.” 

“May I ask you a question Stiles?”

“Sure”

“What month is it?” 

Clay stopped and turned around, Stiles nearly collided with him not expecting the sudden change of pace.

“What? It’s April.”

“Are you sure?” 

Stiles wasn’t sure where this was going, some sort of reverse psychology?

“Yes.”

“How long have we’ve been walking?” 

“About five minutes.”

“Really?” Clay paused and looked around, “seems like its been a lot longer then that.”

The sky turned a burgundy shade the sun setting in the distance behind where the house should have been. Instead there was just trees lining the horizon. Stiles looked back down at the man who was smiling. 

“What is this?” He asked, voice shaking.

“You’re going to have to do better than that. If you ever expect to control your power.” 

“What? What power? What do you mean?” The questions came out one after the other, jumbled together. Stiles took a step closer to the man but he disappeared in front of him. His head was spinning and he fell to the ground eyes closed as he suddenly felt a soft substance against his hands. Stiles opened his eyes, his palms were pressed flat into a mound of snow. Flakes fell all around him. He recognized where he was now. Tombstones were scattered around, some of the letters barely visible but Stiles narrowed in on his mothers grave easily.

Her letters were pristine, as if newly etched into the marker. Stiles got onto his knees and then onto his feet brushing the snow off his pant legs. He was wearing a suit with a tie neatly synched against his neck line. Stiles recognized the black material of the suit as the same one he wore to his mothers funeral. He walked slowly over to the grave, expecting it fade like the house did before but it stayed clear and central.

He knelt down in front of it, tears now staining the front of his face and rolling off his cheeks. A bouquet of fresh flowers leaned against the tomb stone.

Stiles choked back a sob and opened his mouth to speak, “Mom. What’s happening?” The tombstone of course gave no answers, Stiles didn’t know what he was expecting. He knew this wasn’t reality but it felt so tangible. The snow beneath him was soft, its cold wetness seeping through his pant leg and onto Stiles’s bare skin.

“Stiles.” 

Stiles head shot around, he saw a woman standing a few feet in front of him. She looked like an angel clad in a white dress arms outstretched. Stiles recognized his own mother. 

“Mom.” Stiles jumped to his feet wanting to run to her but finding himself unable.

“You need to wake up.” Her voice echoed in Stiles’s head.

“I don’t want to.’ 

“You can’t stay here. This isn’t the place for you. If you stay here you’ll die.” 

“But what if thats what I want?” 

“It’s not time, baby. You must control this.” 

“Control what?” She seemed to be fading and Stiles felt like if he shouted she would stay with him. “Don’t leave me mom.” 

“Don’t let it destroy you like it did me.” Her body was turning to smoke before his eyes, he reached out to grab her but his hand slipped through her skin. 

“Wake up!” 

Stiles opened his eyes. He was flat on his back on the side of a highway road. All he could do was blink and stare up at the morning sky. He reached up and looked at his hand counting five fingers on each. 

The longer he laid their the more certain he was that he was definitely losing his mind. 

***

“Frontotemporal dementia.” The Sheriff answered.

Deaton’s lips flattened into a straight line. “Are you sure?” 

Everyone looked at the Sheriff again waiting for an answer.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” 

Scott didn’t want to but he narrowed his hearing onto the Sheriff’s heart, it was beating faster now than it had before. A drop of sweat glistened on his brow as his eyes scrunched in concentration.

“Why are you lying?” Scott asked.

“Scott!” Melissa stepped over grabbing her sons arm. 

“I’m sorry mom, but I’m trying to help Stiles and I can’t do that without all the information.” He turned back to the Sheriff who looked taken aback by the accusation at first but eventually let out a sigh. 

“Okay, fine.” He took another breath, his mouth opened but no words came out. 

“Take your time.” Melissa soothed.

The Sheriff gave a scrunched smile and nod then finally began, “The doctors said it was frontotemporal dementia, which as Stiles said, shrinks areas of the brain that make it hard to distinguish between fantasy and reality and causes other side effects as well. But this was...”

He paused, taking a breath, “this was much worse then that. Stiles was only a todler so he wouldn’t remember the beginning but she would go into these trance like states, sometimes for hours. I couldn’t get her to talk to me or respond. Then she would just come out of it, with no idea what had just happened talking about where she had just been. Some sort of dream land.”

“As time went on, it got worse, but she would hide it from me. She learned how to make it look as though she was there but wasn’t. I don’t know how to explain it. Eventually Stiles figured out what was happening, but she asked him not to tell me.” The Sheriff paused again, his face flushed with a mixture of sadness and guilt. “I blamed him for a long time for not telling me how bad it really was. When we went to the doctor and that was the explanation they gave us, it sounded logical so thats how I explained it to Stiles.” 

“Her dream like states? Did she ever describe them to you?” Deaton asked.

The Sheriff shook his head, “Not really. Not in detail. She would often talk to Stiles about it. Since he was young he didn’t see it as odd or unusual just interesting. He’s always been interested in this sort of thing.” 

“If I may ask, how did it kill her?” Melissa said quietly. 

“She seemed to just slip away. Her trances became longer and longer, until she fell into a coma, then just never woke up. Towards the end before she was really gone...” He paused looking around the room, everyone seemed to be holding their breath, “She could do things. She became violent.” 

“How so?” Deaton pressed.

“She could...I can’t believe I’m even saying this, manipulate things around her.” 

“Like telekinesis?” Scott asked. 

“Not exactly. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“You said she was violent? How so?” Deaton looked focused, his eyes not leaving the Sheriff. 

“Like...she would throw things or scream, or play weird mind games that I never understood. That was when I knew Claudia was gone and I checked her in.”

“Where?” Melissa moved around Scott so that the Sheriff could see her easier. 

“Eichen House.” He looked down as if in shame.

“I think I know what your wife was, and what Stiles could be.” Deaton said drawing everyones attention back to him.

“What?” 

“To me she sounds like a reality warper.”

“A what?” Scott asked.

“Someone who, if they concentrate, can manipulate things around them. Not much is known about them because they are so rare and it is often thought of that they heighten and strengthen the Nogitsune’s power. This is most likely what drew the Nogitsune to Claudia and then to Stiles.” 

“Are you saying my wife was possessed?” The sheriff asked sounding defensive. 

Deaton put his hands up trying to calm everyone who were now coming closer to him with every word.

“In short yes, but once it realized she was not able to control her power, it left, trying to find a new host. When Stiles came of age, that same Nogitsune was also incidentally set free. The only snag is, it separated itself from Stiles, physically splitting him in two. I fear, there is no way to completely strip away a nogitsune from its host in such a fashion.” 

“You’re saying the nogitsune is still inside Stiles?”

“Not inside, Scott. Part of. It became part of Stiles when they were split in two. Thus Stiles retained some of its power, that combined with his already supernatural abilities that you now jumpstarted. I fear the worse.” Deaton said looking directly at Scott.

“Well can’t he learn to control it, like I did or like Isaac?” 

“I’m sorry, but it’s not that easy. I’ve only met one other reality warper in my day, I didn’t know any others existed because its so hard to control.” 

“Is there anything we can do?” Melissa’s voice was shaky, she had one hand around the Sheriff who looked like he was either going to punch a wall or break down crying. 

“Find Stiles. And do it quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked that! I love hearing from you guys and getting nice feedback. I'll update again asap! I'm starting to figure out where exactly this story is going (kind of...) so it shouldn't be as long between updates! (hopefully *smily face*) Also I wanted to add real quick, can you guys tell at what point Stiles goes from being in reality to his "dream state". Be interested to know what point you think it happens (of course I know, ;) )


End file.
